Taking the Plunge
by Begoogled
Summary: Leisure time on a peaceful, lush planet. What could go wrong? Written for the Drown Malcolm Month.


**Taking the Plunge**

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Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters. This is all written for non-commercial enjoyment. 

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Kathy Rose. And I'd also like to thank all the other contributors for their Drown Malcolm stories. I enjoyed them very much!

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o0o8o0o

Harrenon IV was a beautiful, uninhabited planet with a mild climate and Earth-like-features. Captain Archer had decided this would be a perfect location for some R&R. And after several harrowing away missions, Lt. Malcolm Reed couldn't help but be grateful. At the moment, his belly was filled with Chef's delights, and his eyes were closed as he soaked up the warm rays of the alien sun overhead.

The morning had been filled with sports and games, and the green fields and nearby forest had been their playground. Some people enjoyed swimming in the small lake on whose banks they had gathered for an expansive picnic. The water was shallow, as Reed had seen Ensign Cooper move twenty yards before it reached his chest. Malcolm wasn't sure if he would have dared sit on this spot otherwise.

The comfortable buzz of the crew around him was suddenly shattered by a booming voice, slightly distorted by the electronic hum of the megaphone.

"All right folks, we've got a fun game here. Let's see…is there anyone who'd like to challenge Lieutenant Reed in this competition?"

Out on the grass, heads popped up, conversations were hushed, and suddenly, Malcolm was in the spotlight. After a moment of utter shock, Malcolm stood up. His expression was set hard, daring anyone of the crew, especially one of his own department, to answer that call.

Cmdr. Charles "Trip" Tucker, who had spoken out, seemed to mistake Malcolm's dread for annoyance, and repeated his request with bravado. "Is there no one out here who wants to best our armoury officer? No valiant contestant who dares to compete in this battle of wills?"

Malcolm quickly walked over to Trip, careful to keep his voice low, but unable to keep a peevish tone out of it. No way he was going to give in to the commander's whims.

"Trip, this is ridiculous! I'll not be pressed into volunteering for something like that!" A sudden suspicion befell him. "This isn't about the football game, is it?"

Earlier, Malcolm had led a European team against Trip and his fellow Americans in a game of football, or as Trip called it, soccer. Malcolm had boasted that his team could beat the Yankees without a sweat. This was _their_ game after all. Trip had hooted, replying they could beat the Europeans "anytime, anywhere."

After Ensign Müller had scored the seventh goal for his team, Trip wasn't laughing anymore. The engineer had to admit defeat with a tragic score: 12-3.

But now, the commander was back to his usual easygoing attitude. He chuckled at the fierce look on Malcolm's face, and gave a shrug. "This isn't about the soccer game, Malcolm. I'm not holding any grudges." As Malcolm folded his arms and started shaking his head, Trip gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh, don't be such a killjoy, Lieutenant. It will be good for morale." His smile widened into a shameless grin. Trip was having a field day. "And don't you want to show your prowess in all fields?"

Malcolm growled at the weak joke his friend offered. This was not something he felt compelled to excel in. Trip didn't know about Malcolm's phobia, and Malcolm wasn't about to tell him, either. Still, he had hoped that this part of the festivities would go by him unnoticed. But of course, it had to be Trip who felt that the armoury officer needed a challenge. And now the whole crew was watching! He had to suppress the urge to groan and lower his head in misery.

Trip was still looking around for his volunteer, and for a fleeting moment, Malcolm hoped that his stern expression had scared everyone into hiding. He had just started to breathe normally again when an unexpected voice was heard from the side.

"I'll take that challenge against the Lieutenant."

Hoshi was smiling playfully as she stepped forward. Malcolm's stomach took another plummet. She didn't seem impressed by his warning look.

An appreciative roar rose up from the crowd, and Trip shouted, "Way to go, Hoshi!" The engineer was grinning like a madman.

A muscle in Malcolm's cheek twitched. He definitely needed to find some new and imaginative ways to make Trip suffer. Something with boots and spaghetti sauce came to mind, but before he could crystallize the happy thought further, Tucker had an arm around both his and Hoshi's shoulders.

'Now, we're going to do this fair and square. The rules are simple: Get into that water, and grab your item as fast as possible. Remember, it's not very deep, so don't crash your nose on the bottom or …."

Malcolm discreetly glanced up as Trip went on, quickly averting his eyes so he would not see the lake. He couldn't bear the sight right now. He looked over at the watchers and met Archer's solemn gaze.

Malcolm stiffened. Brilliant. The captain would be here to witness it all. He did not know what the man was thinking, but the captain was aware of Malcolm's fear of water. Couldn't he interfere on his armoury officer's behalf? Make an excuse that the lieutenant was needed elsewhere?

Malcolm silently pleaded with his eyes, at the same time disgusted with himself for doing so. But Archer only gave him a half-smile, probably convinced that Malcolm knew where to draw his own lines. And how could he know that even this kind of activity was scaring the life out of his armoury officer?

Several objects were floating on the water. They were beckoning to him from only a few feet away. It all seemed harmless, trivial. But even now, as the light reflected on the water surface, it flickered with menace. Malcolm knew that when he would submerge, the liquid would swirl around him, alive and treacherous.

Stop it, Lieutenant, he thought. You're only rattling yourself. He shook his head to clear his mind, and just caught Trip's final words, "…and I want no peeking!" 

"What!" Malcolm almost clapped a hand over his strangled cry. Trip was eyeing him funny, and Hoshi seemed confused. He coughed in his hand to hide his embarrassment, aware of his rapid beating heart. He tried again.

"I don't think we need a blindfold. Uhm…I mean, the task is pretty difficult as it is."

Hoshi started giggling. "I think the red-chequered one will suit you nicely, Lieutenant." She held the tea towel aloft.

"No." There was no other way to make them see. He needed to be honest with them. He held their gaze, feigning nonchalance.

"We can keep our eyes closed. The towel will only be in the way. Be a hindrance to my record." He made a half-hearted attempt to smile. A little lie wouldn't hurt, right?

Trip seemed to think the idea over, probably weighing if this consent would make his friend finally say yes. He looked at Hoshi, who shrugged.

"Okay. Have it your way. So," Tucker clapped his hands, then rubbed them, anticipating some great entertainment, "are you guys ready?"

At Hoshi's nod and Malcolm's noncommittal murmur, they moved closer to the basin. A large group of Enterprise's crew had gathered to see how this event would turn out. Some good-natured bets were exchanged. Malcolm tried to focus on the task ahead, but could not help but overhear some of them.

"I bet you tonight's dessert that Sato will win this one!" Malcolm heard someone in the front call out to his companion. He didn't look up to see who it was.

"You're on! It should be a piece of cake for the Lieutenant. Say goodbye to Chef's apple pie…"

Malcolm took a final step, and felt his throat go dry. He was here, right in front of the water. He hadn't lost his mind yet, thankfully. But he wasn't sure if he could actually go through with this. His legs had turned into lead and his heartbeat was erratic.

Hoshi was facing him now, glowing and confident. He envied her tenacity. And detested his own weakness. She smiled at him. "Are you ready?"

No, he wasn't. But he nodded anyway. He just wanted this to be over.

Trip had turned on that infuriating megaphone again. "On your mark."

Malcolm reluctantly closed his eyes, even though it went against all of his instincts. The last he saw was the gentle movement of clear water. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Get set."

It wasn't helping. His heart rate was still out of kilter, and with no visual senses, he felt unsteady on his feet. The cheers from the crowd became a muddled mass, and his stomach suddenly churned with nausea. Not good.

"Go!"

If it was because of his rooted obedience to a command, he never knew, but his body bent forward instinctively, while his mind was still reeling, screaming, "Take another breath!" But it was too late for that.

As Malcolm plunged in headfirst, he was overcome by the horrid sensation of cold water filling his nostrils. At the same time, his lungs began to heave for fresh air. He opened his eyes, but it was of no comfort to him. His hands groped around for support, and he barely could restrain himself from crying out. Some part of him acknowledged that he was in a full panic mode, and that the solution was child's play. But every ounce of strength had left him with that outrageous dive, and all his old fears had resurfaced.

A high tone started ringing in his ears, drowning out his wild heartbeat. His movements slowed, and his perspective changed. It was as if Malcolm was looking down at someone else. He was witnessing the struggle of a desperate man, whose staring eyes and pallid face were imploring him for relief. Malcolm knew that this should frighten him, move him to action, but he was too tired to care anymore.

This is it, he thought in defeat. What a dismal way to kick the bucket.

Suddenly, two pairs of strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled him upward. As he broke the surface, shouts of encouragement and friendly catcalls pounded mercilessly on his eardrums after his wet isolation cell. But he still couldn't breath!

The last image his mind processed was Hoshi with a surprised look on her face. Why she looked like the main course for a Christmas dinner, he could not fathom.

Then he blissfully lost consciousness.

o0o8o0o

Malcolm was roughly awakened by the urgent need to lose his earlier acquired meal.

After the retching subsided, he became aware of the shadows around him. A small hand was rubbing his back, while the doctor's voice calmly came from the right. "That's right, Lieutenant. Just get it out of your system."

Malcolm slowly turned and sat up on the grass. He looked up into the faces of Phlox and the entire bridge crew, who were wearing expressions ranging from mild bemusement to concern.

Funny, he had just embarrassed himself in front of the captain and the entire crew, but he felt fine. He was just a bit light-headed. And he had the irrational impulse to start laughing. Malcolm blinked. It almost felt like he'd been having too much to drink. Well…he had, sort of. Just not of the liquid that he normally preferred.

Hoshi was crouched beside him, her hair and face still slick from the water. Her voice held a note of worry. "Malcolm, what just happened?"

His voice was a bit slurred "I…I'm not sure. I think I got a mouthful of water by accident. I choked on it." He furrowed his brow, trying to think of a better explanation, but came up blank. The others seemed ready to buy it, though.

Trip spoke up. "I didn't realize anything was wrong until the Cap'n came rushing forward and told me to get you out." He looked at Archer. "I'm glad you intervened, sir."

"As am I," Malcolm added happily. The grass held his interest, and he started to pull the green blades out one by one.

Archer nodded, acknowledging the unspoken gratitude, but his armoury officer did not notice. A bemused look came on the captain's face, and he carefully asked, "How are you feeling, Malcolm?"

Malcolm looked up at Archer, but the sun was in his eyes. He smiled vaguely and replied, "Never better."

That remark earned him a raised eyebrow from T'Pol and a few chuckles from the rest.

"I'm glad to hear it. Get some rest, Lieutenant." And with that, Archer and T'Pol moved away.

The doctor got up as well. "There seems to be no lasting negative effect, Lieutenant. I think you are no longer in need of my services." Malcolm nodded in relief.

Phlox looked at Hoshi and Travis. "Ensigns, you were going to teach me an old game from Earth. Shall we play this 'hide and seek' now?"

Hoshi and Travis said they would check on Malcolm later, and then left with an eager Denobulan doctor.

Trip was looking at him, his face still doubtful.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Malcolm waved a hand. "I'm fine."

"Fine. Right."

"Trip."

"Okay, okay. I won't start arguing with you." The engineer pulled a face. "Too bad the Cap'n ordered you to rest. I was planning on a rematch."

That got Malcolm's attention. He squinted his eyes to read his friend's expression. "I hope you don't intend to play without me."

A playful grin spread across Trip's face. "The Cap'n didn't say how_ long_ you had to rest…"

Malcolm assessed his own condition, both mentally and physically. He was quite pleased about the results. He copied Trip's broad smile and answered, "Give me fifteen minutes."

Trip let out a whoop. "I'll get the teams ready." He started to walk away.

"Trip?"

The engineer turned around again. "What is it?" At Malcolm's intense stare, worry crept back in his voice. "Is there something wrong?"

"No." Malcolm shook his head, and his eyes lost their edge, now showing mirth.

"Just remind me never to go bobbing for apples again."

THE END

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I'd love to hear what you think! 


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